2015 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 18

For today’s prompt, write an idea poem. Do all poems begin with an idea? I don’t know. Some of mine begin with an image or a sound, and the meaning emerges later (if at all). For this prompt though, have an idea, an epiphany, a giant light bulb hovering over your head.

Let the ideas flow.

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Re-create Your Poetry!

Revision doesn’t have to be a chore–something that should be done after the excitement of composing the first draft. Rather, it’s an extension of the creation process!

In the 48-minute tutorial video Re-creating Poetry: How to Revise Poems, poets will be inspired with several ways to re-create their poems with the help of seven revision filters that they can turn to again and again.

Here’s my attempt at an Idea poem:

“I’ve got it,” sputtered Marcus at lunch in the cafeteria
to himself as much as anyone. “Got what,” asked Barbara.
“He’s got soft rolls,” joked Eddie. “No, no, no,” started
Marcus, “I have an idea.” Walt rolled his eyes, “Not another

one of those.” But Marcus ignored him, “I still think we
should get out to the Carter house again.” “Marcus!”
“Buutttt, I understand everyone’s hesitation about going
back there,” continued Marcus. “Sooo, I have another

Barbara blurted, “I know why,” but Marcus waved her off,
“Think about it. She’s spent the most time with Jesse.”

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Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of the poetry collection, Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He edits Poet’s Market and Writer’s Market, in addition to writing a free weekly WritersMarket.com newsletter and a poetry column for Writer’s Digest magazine.

This is his eighth year of hosting and participating in the November PAD (Poem-A-Day) Chapbook Challenge. He can’t wait to see what everyone creates this month–not only on a day-by-day basis, but when the chapbooks start arriving in December and January. Fun, fun, fun.

She’d planned to publish
her pent up memories,
capture and corral
her wayward thoughts,
before they were forever lost.
She could picture herself
(in her mind’s eye)
putting pen to paper,
inscribing her ideas,
but these serpentine
ponderings left her
without the
slightest ink-
ling of how
or where
to begin.

i know we both use to think like analog clocks
one track mind from point A to point B
mapping all possible traffic jams along the way
our life slowly passing, like sand in the hour glass
but you started reading Time magazine
and got these crazy ideas that life was made for the living
so your brain told you to run, run far away
so your brain said to leave me
so your brain said to go

Idea
I dream each afternoon, drift hazily under weight
of worsted wool, my crested blue tunic and tights
holding heat close to my body as understanding
of Pythagorean theorem, attempting emergence
in wooden form, slides clumsily out from point of
yellow HB pencil onto eraser-worn-thin paper. It
strikes me (with sharp corners) that there can be
no wiggle room here to conquer and divide mind-
numbing conformity— the thoughts have all been
thought before by others brighter than my young
self, and long dead.
—Christina Perry

Blank page
Dank, dark caverns
Stalactites in the nerve center
Equilibrium off
Focus out
Ideas lost
Thinking processing
Brain on vacation
Creativity is stale
Not writer’s block
But the writer’s BLOCKED
Pull a miracle of Eureka out of nothing
And I’m proud
Loud
My epiphany is my effort brought to fruition
What I thought slowed me was only myth
And everything that didn’t destroy me
Inspired me for more ideas

Because the air might change from silver to blood
in the time it takes you to fall asleep
And everything you thought you knew could just as
easily become completely unknown
The world you’ve been familiar with all of your life;
so much so, you could map it blind
Will grow surreal and extra-terresterial with shades
of cadmium, ochre, veridian, too
Because all of this is more likely to happen than not –
do what you feel is right, not what you should
Then, and only then, will you perhaps stand a chance.